


after the war

by thegirl (orphan_account)



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Dementia, F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thegirl
Summary: Once upon a time, he had made a vow to marry this woman. Once upon a time, he had mapped out their lives inside his mind -after the warwas a promise they made over and over again, to each other and themselves, a promise they were forced to break.We'll be together, after the war. We'll be happy, after the war. We'll be safe, after the war.





	after the war

**Author's Note:**

> My exams are over, my skin is clear, my crops are thriving. Time to ruin all that with sad fanfics.

Even though Steve has visited this room over a dozen times by now, it’s still a shock to see how small Peggy Carter has become. In his memories (his all-too-recent memories) Peggy is still young and strong and fierce, still waiting, still bold and brilliant and beautiful. Her hair is chestnut brown, her lips painted as red as sin, and her skin is the smoothest he’s ever touched (hers is the only skin he’s ever touched, but that’s neither here nor there).

Here, in this new world, this old world, this world that makes no sense and too-much sense at the same time, Peggy Carter is old. Oh, she is still fierce, still bold, still brilliant, still beautiful. Still _Peggy_ , always, even when her hair is as white as the bones of young sergeants who never made it home, even when her skin is lined a thousand times over, like a piece of paper that you keep on folding and unfolding when its important, when it matters, when it’s loved.

But God, she is so small. She is disappearing into the covers of her bed in the nursing home, the washed out colours bleaching the life from her in front of his very eyes. He wonders when she last wore her blood red lipstick. He wonders who she last kissed wearing it.

Sometimes, she remembers him, remembers the whole sorry story. More and more often, she forgets, she cries, she cups his cheek with that same tenderness of seventy years before, and his heart- his _heart-_

Once upon a time, he had made a vow to marry this woman. Once upon a time, he had mapped out their lives inside his mind - _after the war_ was a promise they made over and over again, to each other and to themselves, a promise they were forced to break. _We'll be together, after the war. We'll be happy, after the war. We'll be safe, after the war._

The war’s over now, the wars been over for years, for lifetimes, but Steve is too late.


End file.
